


Eyes light up the room and still the air

by cliffordxcolors



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: I have an inability to write happy fics, M/M, Muke - Freeform, Sad Michael, ashton and calum aren't in this, the stars remind Michael of Luke, this is really shitty I'm sorry, this is really stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 20:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2441789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cliffordxcolors/pseuds/cliffordxcolors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"They all remind me of you," the boy said, pointing to the billions of stars in the night sky, then glancing to his right. "They're so bright, like your eyes. Except your eyes were, like, a million times more beautiful. I bet the stars are jealous."</em> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Or Luke dies in a car accident and Michael doesn't want to believe he's actually gone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eyes light up the room and still the air

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this really quickly and it's so shitty I'm sorry if you read this 
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO I DIDNT EDIT THIS SO THERE'S PROBABLY A LOT OF MISTAKES I APOLIGIZE
> 
> Title from Goodnight Moon by Go Radio

Michael's socked feet were close to silent as he gently tiptoed out of the stuffy apartment. He needed to get out. He _had_ to get out. The apartment was too quiet, too deafeningly quiet, and Michael hated the feeling of having one half of his bed always empty. 

He knew that Ashton and Calum hated when he did this. Hell, he hated himself for doing this, but he knew he would feel even worse if he made himself completely forget everything that he ever shared with Luke. 

Michael softly closed the front door, making sure he locked it behind him because he knew how worried Luke always got when the door wasn't locked, even if one of the four of them were inside. 

He made his way to the stairs that led to the roof, the soft blue blanket cradled in his arms. He remembers countless nights, taking this same route at two am, when the blankets on his bed felt like a boa constrictor and the walls felt like they were closing in on him. He remembers his small hand inserted perfectly with Luke's large ones, dragging his blonde-haired lover up to the roof, and Luke would never protest, even though Michael could sense the exhaustion radiating from him, the tiredness in his eyes.

_Luke_

His name sounded like a beautiful violin, like angels singing, like every beautiful sound Michael has ever heard, multiplied by a billion. 

Luke, who's eyes shone as bright as the blue in the sky, who's hair was the sun, and his skin was the clouds. Luke, who's voice, Michael was convinced, was too good to be real, too smooth and perfect and deep and when Luke sang to him it was like flowers bloomed and clouds parted and Michael wanted to tattoo Luke's voice onto his goddamn _forehead_. He doesn't give a fuck if that's impossible. 

Luke, who put up with Michael's need to see the stars at two am, to feel irrelevant as he looked up into the night sky, to see how many constellations he could remember Luke telling him about. Michael loved Luke for that. Who else would ever be willing to lay on the roof of an apartment building in whatever weather with someone like Michael? 

Michael finally arrived at the roof, slightly out of breath from the stairs. He remembered how Luke and his god-like body would tease him, and how Michael would fondly slap his boyfriend's arm. But tonight, he heard no teasing, no mocking, just the sound of his own breath. 

He walked to their usual spot, in the center of the roof, and set the blanket down. He laid on the left, because the right was always Luke's side. 

"The sky is so clear tonight." Michael whispered, bending one arm and resting the back of his head on his hand, the other hand rested on his stomach. 

It was about three am, and the only noises were the city below him, cars and clubs and drunk people drowning themselves in alcohol, and Michael was laying on a roof looking at the stars. 

"It's a crescent moon tonight." It reminded Michael of the marks Luke's nails would sometimes leave on his skin, and how Luke would kiss them afterwards, feeling bad. Michael never told him that he wasn't sure if he like the marks or the actual moon better. "I don't know if it's waxing or waning. You knew a lot more about the moon than I did." 

Wind blew around him, sending shivers through his body and running its imaginary hands through his hair. The ends of the blankets folded over, and Michael remembered how Luke would immediately sit up to flatten the soft fabric again. 

"You always blushed when you talked about space. Said that it was nerdy, how you knew so many constellations and knew so much about the moon. But I loved that glimmer in your eyes when I asked you a question, like why some stars are bright than other ones, and I loved how you would roll your eyes when I would ask something cheesy, like why, if all the stars blended together, they would still never be as bright, as beautiful, as you were." He stared upwards, and whenever he did he would understand Luke's fascination. 

"They all remind me of you," the colorful-haired boy said, pointing to the billions of stars in the night sky, then glancing to his right. "They're so bright, like your eyes. Except your eyes are, like, a million times more beautiful. I bet the stars are jealous." 

The silence that responded to him, the empty space next to him, felt like a knife cutting through him, and the air felt thick, like it was choking him, and he just really needed Luke's strong arms around him right now. 

He heard a siren, of an ambulance or a police, he wasn't sure, and he cringed. 

He wanted to go back to before that night in the car, before the sound of metal on metal was carved into his brain, where he escaped with only a broken arm and leg and the pain of hearing a doctor talk about Luke, saying "we did everything we could, but it wasn't enough." 

"Luke, I could really use hearing your nerdy talk right now. Tell me the name and history of every constellation of stars. Please." Tears were slowly dripping form Michael's eyes, and the silence around him made everything worse.

 

About an hour passed, and Michael gathered the blanket and left. 

"Goodnight, Luke. I hope you're okay up there. You must love being so close to the stars."


End file.
